Chapter Text
Kim Mingyu (21) – University Student, Architecture Major
- Appearance: Towering and handsome, with a permanent sparkle in his eyes. Wears cozy hoodies, scuffed sneakers, and always carries a sketchpad with stickers on the cover. His hair is floppy and his smile? Blinding.
- Personality: A literal ray of sunshine. Energetic, affectionate, and a hopeless romantic who believes in fate, fairy tales, and soulmate magic. Cries over love songs and loves the idea of grand gestures. Loyal to the core, and wears his heart on his sleeve (sometimes literally).
- Habits: Writes daily affirmations on sticky notes. Gives people nicknames instantly. Talks to flowers and pets stray cats. Collects photos of sunsets like they’re treasures.
- Soulmate String Status: Always dreamed of seeing the red string. When it finally appears, he screams in his dorm room, trips over his own feet trying to follow it, and calls his best friend sobbing from happiness.
Hong Jisoo / Joshua (24) – Idol, Lead Vocalist of Popular K-pop Group
- Appearance: Angelic visuals, soft brown-blond hair, warm honey eyes. Always dressed in neutral, comfy layers when off-stage. Looks like he stepped out of a dream.
- Personality: Gentle, nurturing, and poetic. He’s always had a quiet, aching yearning for a connection beyond the idol world. He’s the type to smile through the exhaustion for the sake of his fans and members, but he longs to be loved just as Joshua—not just as the idol.
- Habits: Writes music late at night, often strumming his guitar with the red string wrapped around his pinky. Keeps a collection of love letters in a locked box—written for someone he’s never met.
- Soulmate String Status: The red thread appeared when he was 17, and it kept him grounded during chaotic trainee days. He watches it sometimes, eyes soft, wondering who’s on the other end. When it starts tugging for the first time in years… his heart races.
---
Kim Mingyu was not a morning person. He wanted to be one—he really did. He imagined waking up with the sunrise, stretching like they do in commercials, making a protein shake, and going on a jog like a functioning adult.
But in reality, he usually woke up tangled in his blankets, with one sock missing, drool on his pillow, and his alarm blaring for the third time.
Today, however, he woke up to something else.
A soft tug on his pinky.
Mingyu blinked at the ceiling, confused. He sat up, rubbing his eyes and yawning like a baby bear, until he glanced down at his hand—and froze.
There, wrapped delicately around his smallest finger, was a thin, glowing red string.
Mingyu screamed.
Not a scream of fear. No, this was a scream of unfiltered, pure joy. The kind that could shatter windows. The kind that made his roommate bang on the wall next door.
“OH MY GOD! OH MY GOD, OH MY GOD, IT’S HERE! IT’S HERE, IT’S REAL!” he shrieked, practically jumping off his bed and tripping over his own feet in the process. He hit the floor with a thud but didn’t even care.
“I HAVE A SOULMATE! A REAL, ACTUAL SOULMATE!” he yelled to no one in particular, staring at the glowing string in disbelief. It shimmered in the morning light, warm and magical, leading right through his dorm wall and off into the world.
Mingyu’s heart thumped like a bass drum in his chest.
“Okay. Okay, okay, okay.” He stumbled to his feet, one sock on and hair flying everywhere. “What do I do? What do people do when they find their soulmate string?! Do I follow it? Do I—”
He gasped.
“Do I get them a gift? Oh my god, should I make a playlist? Wait—wait, no! Breakfast. Soulmates love breakfast!”
He darted into the tiny kitchenette, grabbing a frying pan and immediately dropping it on the floor in his excitement. The clatter echoed through the dorm, but Mingyu was too far gone in his dreamland.
He was glowing.
Actually glowing.
He kept glancing down at the thread, eyes sparkling like stars. “I wonder what they’re like… what they’re doing right now. Are they looking at this too? Are they just as excited as I am? Would they like a soulmate who is a tall crybaby?” he whispered, voice soft with wonder.
For years, he’d dreamed about this moment. While his friends dismissed the red string legend as a myth or a glitch in fate, Mingyu had always believed. He had written poems in his sketchbook, doodled hearts in the margins, and whispered to the stars at night:
“Please let them be someone kind.”
Now here he was—standing barefoot in his dorm, burning toast and bouncing on his heels, tethered to a destiny he hadn’t even met yet.
And somewhere far away, past the city skyline, cameras, and screaming fans…
The other end of the string pulsed gently.
---
The dressing room was unusually quiet for a post-recording night.
Joshua sat in front of the mirror, still wearing his stage outfit—soft beige linen and a cream knit vest that made him look gentle, almost like a boy from a fairytale. His makeup was smudged, the shimmer under his eyes dulled after hours under the lights. His phone buzzed quietly beside a bottle of half-drunk water, but he didn’t check it.
He was staring at his pinky.
At the red string.
It had always been there—since he was seventeen, barely out of trainee life. At first, it had felt like a blessing, a silent promise that no matter how brutal the road ahead got, someone was out there waiting for him. Someone who wouldn’t care about the stardom, the headlines, or the crafted image.
But then… nothing. Years passed. The string stayed faint, invisible to the public eye, invisible even to his own members—unless they knew to look. Joshua had kept it hidden like a secret diary, sometimes tracing it with his thumb when no one was watching.
Until tonight.
The string had started glowing.
A soft, steady light—warm and unmistakable.
And Joshua had felt it like a punch to the gut.
“No… not now,” he whispered, eyes wide. “Please, not now.”
He clenched his fists.
It had only been three months since the chaos. Since the photos. Since the dating rumor—completely false—had exploded like wildfire across the internet. Since he'd watched comments flood in like knives.
"He betrayed the fans."
"Why would he even think he’s allowed to date?"
"Unfollowed."
"I hope his soulmate feels ashamed."
He hadn't even been dating anyone. He was helping a childhood friend move out of an apartment. One blurry photo—one angle—and everything spiraled.
He had cried that night. Alone. With his hand over his chest and the red thread dim in the dark.
And now… it was glowing.
They're out there, the voice in his head whispered. The one you're meant for.
Joshua swallowed hard, his stomach twisting.
What if his soulmate was just a normal person? What if they got hurt because of him? He could already imagine the chaos—cameras outside dorms, fake articles, people digging up their social media. He’d seen it happen to others.
He couldn’t let that happen.
Not again.
“Hyung?” A quiet knock pulled him from his spiraling thoughts. It was Seungkwan. “We’re heading back to the dorms.”
“Yeah… Coming,” Joshua said, voice hollow.
He stood, grabbing his hoodie and tugging the sleeve low over his hand. The glowing thread peeked through the knit.
He stared at it one more time, heart aching.
“Please… don’t glow for me,” he whispered. “You deserve better than someone the world hates.”
And yet, the string only glowed brighter—like it had finally found home.
---
Mingyu had never skipped class before. Not even once.
But today? The boy was on a mission. A soulmate mission. A destiny-fueled, universe-approved mission.
And not even Professor Kang’s terrifying attendance rule could stop him.
His string had been glowing since morning—vibrant and steady—and his heart had been in his throat since breakfast. It tugged ever so gently, like a whisper, like the universe was nudging him.
So he followed it. Across campus, down winding alleys, over crosswalks he almost got hit at because he was staring at the sky like a lovesick fool. He didn’t even feel tired—his legs were working on adrenaline, on serotonin, on the pure joy of possibly meeting the love of his life.
He had imagined many scenarios for how this would go down.
Maybe his soulmate was a florist. Maybe a librarian who’d hand him a book and their fingers would brush and—boom—fate would sing. Maybe someone in a bakery who’d give him a heart-shaped cookie and a shy smile.
What he didn’t expect…
Was to end up standing in front of the Pledis Entertainment headquarters.
Mingyu blinked, squinting at the sign.
“No, no, no,” he whispered, looking around. “No way. This is a company. This is a real idol company. Why would my soulmate be—”
He paused. Then his eyes widened.
“OHHH! Maybe they’re a staff here,” he said to himself, snapping his fingers. “Yes! A makeup artist? A stylist? A dancer! That makes so much sense!”
He straightened his shirt, puffed up his cheeks, and marched forward confidently—until a very stern security guard held out a hand.
“ID,” the guard said flatly.
“Huh?” Mingyu blinked.
“Do you have a pass? You can’t enter without one.”
“Oh! No, I’m not… like… an intruder,” Mingyu said, laughing nervously. “I just… I’m here for fate.”
“…For what?”
“Fate! Like—like destiny! My soulmate works here. Or maybe not works here, but like they’re definitely inside and I swear I’m not crazy.”
The guard blinked slowly. “Sir.”
“Okay, listen. I know this sounds weird, but I have this string—look!” Mingyu held up his pinky proudly. “This red string appeared this morning and it’s glowing and I followed it and it led here and it hasn’t stopped glowing and—wait—is that a taser?”
“No. But it could be.”
“Right! Okay, okay, got it, I’ll just…” Mingyu took a few steps back, hands up in surrender, his heart sinking. “Sorry. Sorry. I just thought maybe if I tried really hard, I’d get to meet them today.”
He looked down at his glowing string, brows furrowed, lip jutting out in a pout.
“I even wore my lucky socks,” he mumbled under his breath.
He turned around slowly, ready to walk away—even if it shattered him a little. But then—
Tug.
A sharp, sudden pull on his pinky.
He gasped and spun around.
And there—at the far end of the glass doors, just exiting with a cap low over his head—was Joshua Hong.
Mingyu’s brain short-circuited.
THE JOSHUA HONG.
The lead vocalist of Seventeen. The man whose smile could make flowers bloom. The very same idol he may or may not have cried over during a live performance of “Same Dream, Same Mind, Same Night.”
Their eyes met.
Joshua stopped mid-step.
And Mingyu’s entire world collapsed, exploded, and restarted all at once.
Because the moment their gazes locked, the string between their pinkies pulsed bright.
So bright it shimmered like sunlight through stained glass. So bright even Joshua’s breath hitched.
“No… no, no, no,” Joshua whispered, panic flashing in his eyes.
Mingyu just… stood there.
Mouth open.
Eyebrows halfway to his hairline.
Eyes full of wonder.
“You… you’re my soulmate?” he squeaked.
The guards turned slightly, glancing back toward Joshua—but before any of them could see what was happening, Joshua moved.
He crossed the space in three quick strides, grabbed Mingyu by the wrist, and hissed, “Don’t say a word.”
Then he yanked him inside.
It all happened in a blur. Hallways, doors, quiet corridors. Joshua moved like a shadow, expertly avoiding cameras and other staff. Mingyu was dragged behind him like a confused, love-struck puppy, trying not to trip over his own feet.
Finally, they slipped into what looked like a private practice room, the door slamming shut behind them.
Joshua let go.
Mingyu didn’t speak. He just stared.
So did Joshua.
The silence stretched until Mingyu broke it—because, of course, he did.
“Do you have any idea how long I’ve dreamed of this?” he blurted out. “Like—you’re my soulmate?! Are you kidding me?! Is this a prank show? Should I cry? I can cry. Do you want me to cry?”
Joshua just blinked, chest rising and falling.
“I—I’m sorry,” he said softly. “I didn’t mean to pull you like that, but… the string was glowing. They’ll notice. You have no idea how dangerous that could’ve been.”
“I don’t care,” Mingyu said immediately.
Joshua looked up, startled.
“I mean, I care about you,” Mingyu added quickly. “But not the danger! If you’re my soulmate, then that’s it! Game over. You’re stuck with me.”
A small, shocked laugh escaped Joshua’s lips.
Mingyu beamed.
“I’m Kim Mingyu,” he said, stepping closer. “Architecture major. Believer in love. Number one fan of you, apparently.”
Joshua’s eyes softened, but his voice stayed cautious. “I’m… Joshua. I guess you know that already.”
Mingyu nodded, heart pounding. “Yeah. I know. And I also know I’ve never felt this kind of pull in my entire life.”
They looked down at their fingers.
Still connected. Still glowing.
Still fate.
The practice room was quiet.
Only the faint sound of air conditioning hummed above them. But inside Mingyu's heart? It was the opening scene of a rom-com. Full orchestra. Doves. Fireworks. Probably a field of flowers. And maybe a dramatic slow-motion run.
He was staring at his soulmate.
The Joshua Hong.
And Joshua Hong was staring right back.
Still, glowing red strings tied them together.
The silence was loaded—Joshua’s shoulders a little tense, his cap pulled low like a shield. But Mingyu couldn’t hold it in anymore.
“So!” he chirped, clapping his hands once—loudly.
Joshua flinched. “Shhh!”
Mingyu’s eyes widened. “Oh! Right. Right. Whisper mode. Got it.”
He dropped his voice to a very dramatic whisper: “So!”
Joshua blinked, caught between amusement and alarm.
Mingyu started pacing excitedly around the room like a kid at his birthday party. “Okay, where do I even start? I’m from Anyang! I moved to Seoul for college, and I study architecture because I thought it sounded cool but then I accidentally fell in love with buildings. Like—romantically. I once wrote a love poem for a spiral staircase.”
Joshua’s eyebrows lifted slightly. “You… did what?”
“I titled it ‘Spinning Heartbeats.’” Mingyu said proudly. “Don’t judge me. It won me second prize at our uni open mic night.”
A soft chuckle escaped Joshua before he could stop it.
That only encouraged the whirlwind.
“I love dogs. And sunflowers. I cry during Pixar movies. I once got lost following a butterfly because I thought it was a sign from the universe. Spoiler—it was not.”
“You’re really… something,” Joshua muttered, and though his tone was cautious, there was a tiny curl of a smile at the edge of his lips.
“I know!” Mingyu beamed. “Oh, also, I snore. And I talk in my sleep. And I’m very tall but I still trip over nothing, like, daily—”
“Wait, wait—” Joshua hissed, stepping forward and gently pressing a hand against Mingyu’s chest to stop him. “Mingyu, we can’t be loud.”
Mingyu’s eyes widened at the contact. He froze.
Joshua’s hand lingered for half a second before pulling back. He looked around the room, lowering his voice.
“We’re still inside the company. If someone sees this—” he lifted his hand, indicating the glowing string “—everything could spiral. Fans… media… even the company. They’re very strict. Especially after… everything.”
Mingyu blinked.
“Oh,” he said softly, finally quieting down. “Right.”
Joshua looked down, his expression briefly shadowed. “A few months ago, a rumor went out. That I was dating. It wasn’t even true, but I got… a lot of hate. I didn’t want to hurt anyone, but it still happened. So if this gets out, and people know about you—”
He didn’t finish the sentence.
Mingyu's smile faded just a little, replaced with something gentle. Grounded.
“Hey,” he whispered. “I’m sorry you went through that. Really.”
Joshua looked up, eyes guarded.
“But,” Mingyu continued, inching a bit closer, “you’re not alone anymore. I know you probably don’t want a chaotic architecture student with bad balance and a spiral staircase obsession, but I’m here. And I’m not going to run just because people talk.”
Joshua opened his mouth, but no sound came out.
“And if you want to keep this quiet,” Mingyu said, nodding, “we’ll keep it quiet. I’ll wear gloves. I’ll dye the string invisible if I have to. But I’m not going anywhere, Joshua-soulmate-idol.”
Joshua let out a light laugh.
Then it was quiet again.
The glow between them pulsed once—steady, soft, sure.
Joshua exhaled, eyes locked on Mingyu’s. “You’re… kind of unbelievable.”
“Yeah, I get that a lot,” Mingyu whispered, smiling.
Joshua shook his head, a little overwhelmed, a little unsure—but undeniably drawn in. Something in Mingyu’s presence felt like the very first day of spring after a long, bitter winter.
Warm. New. Hopeful.
Still hesitant, but comforted by the quiet bravery in Mingyu’s eyes, Joshua sat down against the mirrored wall. “Okay,” he said softly. “Let’s just… sit. Just for a bit.”
Mingyu immediately plopped beside him, grinning like he’d won the lottery.
“I’ve never sat with a soulmate before,” he whispered, voice trembling slightly with awe. “This is insane.”
Joshua laughed quietly. “You’re insane.”
“Yup,” Mingyu nodded. “But I’m your soulmate now so deal with it.”
And Joshua didn’t reply—he just let the smallest smile bloom on his lips.
They sat there for a while, their backs against the mirror, knees brushing.
Mingyu’s eyes kept drifting to the glowing string connecting them, a grin tugging at his lips every other second like he couldn’t quite believe it was real. Joshua sat quietly beside him, arms folded, trying his best to breathe normally even as his heart thudded in his chest like a ticking clock.
“You’re really quiet,” Mingyu whispered, voice soft.
Joshua hummed. “I’m just… trying to process this. And you speak enough for both of us."
Mingyu nodded solemnly.
“I get it. I’d be overwhelmed too if I found out I was my soulmate.”
Joshua side-eyed him. “Really?”
“No,” Mingyu grinned. “I’ve been ready for this my entire life.”
And that was the truth.
Because barely thirty seconds passed before Mingyu’s internal dam broke—and all the daydreams he’d stored up over the years came flooding out like a waterfall of love-soaked chaos.
“Okay, okay, okay, I need to tell you something,” he whispered excitedly, scooting closer. “I’ve literally had a ‘soulmate bucket list’ since I was sixteen.”
Joshua blinked. “You what—”
“Listen, I wrote it in a notebook covered in heart stickers. First thing on the list: breakfast picnics. Like, on a rooftop, just the two of us, croissants and strawberry jam and coffee. Second thing—matching socks. Like obnoxiously bright ones, so even if the world is dark, our ankles are joyful.”
Joshua’s lips twitched, but he didn’t interrupt.
“And I always wanted to dance barefoot in the rain with my soulmate,” Mingyu continued dreamily, “like in those dramas, but instead of dramatic music playing, we’d hum something stupid like the Pokémon theme song—or Pororo's—"
Joshua choked on a laugh. “What?”
“I’m being honest!” Mingyu gasped, looking betrayed. “Don’t mock my dream!”
Joshua put a hand over his mouth, shoulders trembling with silent laughter.
“Okay, okay, wait—I’m not done,” Mingyu said, bouncing a little. “Fourth—baking together. It’ll be messy and terrible and the cupcakes will explode, but it’ll be perfect. And then—”
His voice had gradually gotten louder.
Too loud.
“Mingyu—shhh,” Joshua warned, glancing at the door. “We’re still inside the company.”
“Oh—right,” Mingyu whispered, then immediately continued in the exact same tone, just with exaggerated whispering: “Fifth—build pillow forts! Massive ones with fairy lights. And we can fall asleep watching cartoons and—”
“Mingyu.”
“—sixth! Write each other letters even when we see each other every day because feelings are ✨important✨ and I’m an Aries—”
Joshua stood up so fast he almost tripped over his own feet.
Mingyu looked up, startled.
“Get up,” Joshua said, running a hand down his face. “You’re going to get us both arrested by the Company Noise Police.”
“There’s a Noise Police?”
“No, but there might as well be!”
Joshua exhaled, clearly torn, but the way Mingyu’s eyes sparkled every time he said the word soulmate made something inside Joshua's chest ache in the softest way.
He sighed. “Let’s get out of here.”
Mingyu blinked. “Wait—seriously?”
“I’m taking you to my apartment,” Joshua said, tugging his hoodie lower over his cap. “You clearly have zero indoor voice, and if I let you keep talking in here we’ll get caught and the company will kill me and then you’ll have to grieve your soulmate before you even get to build a pillow fort.”
Mingyu stood up immediately, practically vibrating with excitement. “You have fairy lights, right?!”
Joshua rolled his eyes. “You’ll survive without them.”
“Wait, wait,” Mingyu said suddenly, turning serious. “Are you sure? I don’t want to make trouble for you. I can wait. I’m good at waiting. I waited twenty-one years for you.”
Joshua paused.
Then softened.
“I know,” he said quietly. “But I think I’d rather risk trouble… than miss this chance.”
Mingyu smiled so wide it looked like it hurt. “Oh my god, that was so romantic, do you practice those lines?!”
Joshua shoved him toward the door. “Walk. Quietly.”
Mingyu gave him a thumbs-up. “Stealth mode. Got it. Like a ninja. Soulmate ninja.”
“Please stop talking.”
“Can I hum the Pokémon theme in my head?”
Joshua sighed. “I already regret this.”
But he didn’t stop him.
---
The door clicked shut behind them with a soft thunk.
Joshua’s apartment was quiet. Peaceful. Neat. Luxury. A large four-bedroom tucked away in a quiet residential area, dimly lit with warm-toned lamps and smelling faintly of sandalwood. Everything was color-coordinated. Minimal. Clean.
It screamed: This is my sacred idol sanctuary. Please do not touch anything unless you’re spiritually aligned with it.
And then there was Mingyu.
Mingyu, who walked in like he’d just been teleported into Disneyland.
“OH MY GOD.”
Joshua flinched. “Volume—”
“Sorry, sorry!” Mingyu whispered, then pointed to a shelf near the window. “Are those your baby photos?! WAIT. YOU WERE ADORABLE. You still are. But like—you were squishy adorable.”
Joshua walked past him, pretending he was not blushing. “Shoes off.”
“Right. Sorry. Soulmate manners. Got it.”
Mingyu kicked his shoes off (they landed nowhere near the shoe rack) and practically skipped into the living room. He touched everything with reverence. The couch. The table. The lamp. A cushion. Another cushion. Then a plant. Then—
“OH MY GOD YOU HAVE A YANKEE CANDLE. THAT’S SO AESTHETIC.”
Joshua sighed, pulling his cap off and tossing it on the side table. “Do you want water? Tea? Calming herbs?”
“Do you have hot chocolate?”
“...I do.”
Mingyu gasped so hard Joshua thought he might cry.
“I knew you were perfect,” he said dramatically, flopping onto the couch like he’d just come home after a war. “You have hot chocolate, neat shelves, sandalwood scent, a rice cooker, AND your soulmate is tall and handsome. Wow. You hit the jackpot.”
“I didn’t know you came with a running commentary,” Joshua mumbled, but a small smile tugged at the corners of his mouth.
“Do you mind if I sit here?” Mingyu asked, already curled up on the couch like a very large, overexcited cat.
“You already are.”
Joshua went to the kitchen, shaking his head—but his chest felt warm.
He returned a few minutes later with two mugs of hot chocolate topped with tiny marshmallows, and Mingyu lit up like a child on Christmas morning.
“You added marshmallows?! Oh my god, I love you.”
Joshua froze mid-sip.
Mingyu blinked. “I mean. Not like that. I mean, I will love you, I think. Eventually. Probably. Maybe already do. Who knows? Destiny’s weird.”
Joshua set the mug down with a quiet thunk and sat across from him on the floor, eyes fixed on the steam rising between them.
There was a pause.
Mingyu sipped. “This is amazing.”
Joshua smiled softly. “Thank you.”
The silence that followed was different—comfortable, glowing, as if the red string between them had softened into something breathable. Safe.
Then Mingyu whispered, “...I can see you’re still nervous.”
Joshua met his eyes. He didn’t deny it.
“I get it,” Mingyu said, leaning forward slightly. “You have a lot more to lose than me. Fans. Your image. Your career.”
He tilted his head, playful but sincere. “But for what it’s worth… I don’t care about any of that. I just care that you’re you. That the universe gave me you. And I’m not going anywhere.”
Joshua stared at him.
And for the first time, truly, something in Joshua’s chest unlocked. That wall he always kept up—slowly, shakily—cracked open.
"...You’re kind of dangerous, you know that?" he whispered.
Mingyu grinned. “Yup. Soulmate-certified menace.”
Joshua laughed quietly, head falling back against the couch.
Mingyu’s voice turned soft. “Can I stay a little longer?”
Joshua looked at him—this bright, chaotic boy who burst into his life like spring sunlight through thick clouds—and nodded.
“Yeah. You can stay.”
---
The apartment was quiet now.
The city outside had dulled to a hum, the lights from the streetlamp casting soft golden lines through the sheer curtains. Mingyu sat on one end of the couch, legs curled up beneath him, head tilted slightly. He’d finally stopped bouncing off the walls—though it took three cups of hot chocolate and a scolding from Joshua to get him to sit still.
Joshua had changed into loose grey sweatpants and a plain white shirt. His hair was damp from a quick shower, the ends curling slightly. He looked nothing like the polished idol on billboards or in music videos.
He looked real.
And Mingyu, despite every effort, couldn’t stop staring.
Or—more specifically—he couldn’t stop staring at their string.
That glowing red thread still connecting their little fingers, soft and steady and alive.
It pulsed every now and then. Like a heartbeat. Like fate breathing quietly between them.
Joshua noticed.
“You’re not listening to anything I’m saying, are you?”
Mingyu’s head snapped up. “I am! I swear!”
Joshua arched a brow. “What was the last thing I said?”
Mingyu opened his mouth. Closed it. Looked at the string. “Something about… dating...but make it stealthy?”
Joshua sighed, amused but exasperated. “Okay, let’s try this again.”
He shifted, drawing one leg up onto the couch, facing Mingyu properly now. His voice was gentle—but serious. “Mingyu, I’m an idol. Which means there are things we can and can’t do. Even if we’re soulmates.”
Mingyu nodded slowly. He was listening now—trying to, anyway.
“You can’t call me your boyfriend or soulmate in public. You can’t post anything about the string. You can’t tell your friends. You can’t show up at the company again without reason. Not even when it’s glowing like crazy.”
Mingyu glanced down at the string again. It was glowing like crazy.
Joshua followed his gaze. “…And you can’t keep getting distracted by that.”
“But it’s so pretty,” Mingyu whispered.
Joshua blinked.
“I mean, look at it,” Mingyu continued, holding his pinky up slightly. “It’s literally destiny. Glowing. Between us. Right now. That’s magical. That’s Studio Ghibli levels of magic. This is soulmate propaganda.”
Joshua let out a soft breath, torn between fondness and frustration. “Mingyu.”
“Sorry,” he whispered sheepishly. “Continue.”
Joshua hesitated for a moment before speaking again, quieter this time.
“I’m not saying this because I don’t want this,” he said. “I do. You have no idea how long I’ve waited for that string to glow. It showed up when I was seventeen. Just… colorless. Dormant. And then it finally started glowing a few days ago and I—”
His voice caught, just slightly.
“I panicked. Because everything I built—the music, the group, the fans—it could all be torn apart if people knew.”
Mingyu didn’t speak. He just listened now. Really listened.
Joshua looked away, voice barely a whisper now. “And after the dating scandal… when I wasn’t even dating anyone… I got so much hate. It scared me. It made me feel like love wasn’t something I could have. Not really.”
The silence that followed was soft. Fragile.
And then Mingyu, very slowly, extended his pinky—still glowing red—and hooked it around Joshua’s.
“I won’t ruin what you built,” he said quietly. “I promise.”
Joshua looked down at their hands, his breath catching.
“I won’t force you into the light if the shadows feel safer. I won’t post about you or sneak into the company or call you babe in front of cameras—even though I really, really want to,” Mingyu added with a soft laugh.
Joshua bit back a smile. Just barely.
“I’ll wait for you, Joshua slash idol slash soulmate. For every yes, every no. Every maybe. You’ve lived in a world where love costs too much. I just want you to know… with me, it’s free.”
Joshua’s eyes shimmered, but he didn’t let them fall.
Instead, he leaned back against the couch, finally letting the weight in his chest settle.
“…You really talk too much,” he murmured.
Mingyu grinned. “I know. But you’re smiling again, so I win.”
Joshua closed his eyes and softly, finally, whispered, “Yeah. You win.”
There was a pause.
A deep, thoughtful silence between the two of them—Joshua’s voice still lingering in the air, his walls briefly lowered. It was honest. It was heavy. It was raw.
Mingyu stared at him for two full seconds, eyes slightly wide, and then—
“Nope,” Mingyu said abruptly.
Joshua blinked. “What?”
“No,” Mingyu repeated, louder, scrambling upright. “We’re not doing that.”
“Doing what—?”
“The sad backstory. The ‘I can’t have love because the world is cruel’ speech. No. Nope. Cancelled. Denied. Vetoed by the Council of Soulmate Cheerfulness™.”
Joshua stared at him. “Mingyu—”
“I forbid it!” Mingyu declared dramatically, waving his arms around like he was conducting an invisible orchestra. “There will be no Tragic Idol Monologues under this roof. Especially not from my soulmate who makes the best hot chocolate and has plants he names after anime characters—”
Joshua flushed. “You weren’t supposed to see that—”
“You have a ficus named Naruto. Do you know how emotionally damaging that is to me?”
“I was seventeen—!”
“I don’t care!” Mingyu cried. “I refuse to let you believe you’re not allowed to be loved. Like, excuse me? The red string chose you. The universe wrote your name in bold, underlined, glitter gel pen ink.”
Joshua’s lips twitched.
“I mean, yeah, you’re famous and gorgeous and mysterious and emotionally constipated,” Mingyu continued, flopping back onto the couch. “But you’re also soft and thoughtful and gave me the corner seat even though you didn't know I liked windows. You let me rant about pillow forts and soul song playlists and you didn’t run away. That makes you better than, like, ninety-nine percent of humans already.”
Joshua leaned his cheek into his palm, staring at him in exhausted amusement. “You’re insane.”
“I prefer the term chaotically devoted.”
Joshua laughed quietly.
“And another thing,” Mingyu added, pointing dramatically. “If you ever get sad again, you are legally required to text me a 🧃 emoji so I can send you a photo of a cat in a fruit costume.”
Joshua opened his mouth.
“No exceptions.”
He closed it.
“Do you… actually have those photos saved already?”
Mingyu’s face turned dead serious. “I have albums. Categorized by fruit. You like grapes?”
Joshua burst out laughing, soft and real.
Mingyu grinned so hard it hurt. “There he is. There’s my smiley boy. That’s what I signed up for.”
Joshua shook his head, speechless. This boy. This human glitter bomb. He had expected anything but this. And yet, here he was, glowing like the string between them, hands moving as fast as his mouth, turning tragedy into comedy without even trying.
He wasn’t just light.
He was a sunrise.
And somewhere in the middle of Mingyu listing reasons why frogs should be the official soulmate animal (“Because they’re loyal! And squishy!”), Joshua whispered, almost to himself:
“…I think I needed you more than I realized.”
Mingyu paused mid-rant. “Huh?”
Joshua smiled. “Nothing. Keep going. Tell me more about the frog thing.”
Mingyu lit up again. “Oh you’re gonna love this—okay, so frogs—”
And Joshua just sat there and listened.
Because the world was quiet, the red string was glowing, and his soulmate was talking about frogs like they were holy creatures sent from the stars.
Mingyu’s head had found a home on the couch cushion now—body stretched out like a very large, very excitable puppy—feet dangling off the edge. His socked toes wiggled every time he got excited (which was... often).
Joshua sat cross-legged on the floor beside him, sipping another lukewarm hot chocolate, eyes fixed on Mingyu’s glowing red string that still connected them.
He hadn’t said much in the last few minutes.
Because Mingyu had been talking. A lot.
“And then—” Mingyu said, voice already breathless from rambling, “—I want to get matching rings. Like simple ones. Gold maybe. Or rose gold? Not flashy. Just, like, something only we know the meaning of, y’know?”
Joshua hummed quietly, a half-smile tugging at his lips. “You’re really planning far ahead.”
“That’s what romantics do, soulmate. We don’t fall in love—we plunge. Head first. No lifeguard. No pool depth signs. Just—splash.”
Joshua chuckled. “You’ve given this a lot of thought.”
“Oh, so much. You want me to keep going?”
“I don’t think you could stop even if I said no.”
“You’re not wrong,” Mingyu grinned.
He pulled the blanket tighter around himself like a cape, eyes dreamy now. “I wanna cook together. Like, not fancy stuff—just pancakes. Bad pancakes. Lopsided ones. The kind where one’s shaped like a weird dog and you argue over who gets the uglier one.”
Joshua’s expression softened. “You want to argue over pancakes?”
“Lovingly. While I wear an apron that says ‘kiss the chef’ even though I can’t cook to save my life.”
Joshua laughed. “So who’s actually making the pancakes?”
“You, probably. You seem competent. But I’ll stand there and distract you by dancing to old K-pop songs in the background.”
“You’re going to dance while I cook?”
“Obviously. Shirtless. It’s part of the fantasy.”
Joshua sputtered. “What?!”
Mingyu winked. “Soulmate perks, babe.”
Joshua hid behind his mug. “Oh my god.”
But Mingyu wasn’t done. Not even close.
“I want slow dancing in the kitchen too. Not even with music—just, like, humming stupid songs into your neck and stepping on your toes and swaying like we’re in a drama.”
“You know those moments only last two seconds in dramas, right?”
“Yeah, well, I want them to last forever.”
Joshua’s heart pulled tight in his chest. The way Mingyu said it—with complete sincerity, with stars in his eyes—it felt dangerous. Warm. Real.
“And I want to go to bookstores and hold your hand in the poetry section,” Mingyu continued. “And take pictures of our shadows. And have inside jokes no one else gets. And share milkshakes with two straws like those cheesy American movies.”
Joshua had to look away now. The fondness in his chest was rising too fast. Too sharp.
Mingyu turned onto his side, propping his head up on one hand. “I want to take care of someone who lets me love them loud. Who doesn’t flinch when I say, ‘I missed you today,’ even if we just met that morning. Someone who gets used to hearing ‘I love you’ like it’s hello. Someone who wants that kind of love.”
Joshua didn’t say anything.
He couldn’t.
“And marriage,” Mingyu added softly, voice dropping now. “Someday. Like, not because we have to. Just because we want to. Because it’d be nice to wake up and see you wearing my hoodie, making toast, with messy hair, and think—‘yup. That’s mine.’”
Joshua’s chest ached.
Mingyu blinked, as if just remembering something. “Oh. Did I say too much?”
Joshua looked up at him slowly, eyes warm, voice gentle.
“No,” he said. “Not at all.”
Mingyu smiled—so wide, so full of heart it made Joshua want to cry for reasons he didn’t understand.
“You’re... not what I expected,” Joshua admitted.
Mingyu tilted his head. “What did you expect?”
“I don’t know,” Joshua said honestly. “But not someone who’d show up, trip into my life, and tell me about pancake dates and marriage rings all within the same day.”
“Well,” Mingyu whispered, eyes shining, “it’s a good thing the string didn’t let you choose.”
Joshua smiled again. Quiet. Soft.
Joshua had been silent for a while now, watching as Mingyu dramatically narrated every romantic daydream in his heart like a one-man musical. The apartment was warm, the red string still glowing gently between their pinkies.
The clock blinked past 1:00 AM.
Outside, the world was still.
Inside, Mingyu had just finished his 15-minute speech about hand-holding in museums.
Joshua, heart full and eyes soft, leaned back against the couch cushion and looked over at him. “Hey,” he said quietly.
Mingyu looked up, cheeks flushed from all the talking.
“…Do you wanna stay?” Joshua asked.
It was a simple question. Casual. Gentle.
But Mingyu gasped as if he’d been proposed to.
“STAY?!” he shrieked (in a whisper).
Joshua blinked.
“You mean here?! Like—in your home? Overnight?! With the blankets and vibes and nighttime intimacy of unspoken soulmate tension?!”
Joshua stared at him, wide-eyed. “…I was just offering the couch.”
But Mingyu was already rolling dramatically off it and onto the carpet like a fainting Victorian maiden. “Oh my GOD. You temptress.”
“…Mingyu.”
“Do you even know what you’re saying?!” Mingyu wailed, flopping like a fish. “What if I wake up and your hoodie is hanging off your shoulder and the sunlight is hitting your cheek and I fall even more in love?!”
“That… sounds oddly specific.”
“And what if—what if I see you half-asleep, and you say my name all raspy and low and I combust on the spot?! I can’t risk that. I’m fragile.”
Joshua was laughing now. “You were literally two seconds away from proposing to me ten minutes ago.”
“That was symbolic!”
“You said you wanted to name our future plants.”
“Exactly. That’s serious.” Mingyu pointed at him, eyes wide. “I can’t rush into these things!”
Joshua leaned forward slightly, voice softer. “So… you don’t want to stay?”
Mingyu paused. Blinked. Then, very dramatically, he placed a hand over his heart and said, “Joshua. I want to stay so bad. I want to stay, like, aggressively. Like, rearrange-my-life-priorities level of stay. Like ‘tell my future kids this is where it all began’ kind of stay.”
Joshua tried very hard not to smile, but failed.
“But I won’t,” Mingyu added, sitting up straight now, expression turning (slightly) serious. “Because I want this to go slow. Like... heartbeats-in-sync slow. Like… anticipation makes it sweeter slow.”
Joshua blinked.
Mingyu bit his bottom lip. “Because you matter. And I want to treasure this, not rush it. Even if I’m dying to cling to your arm and fall asleep right now.”
There was a pause.
Then Joshua leaned his cheek into his palm, blinking slowly at him. “You really confuse me.”
“I confuse myself. But I’m cute, so it evens out.”
Joshua snorted. “Fair point.”
They sat there in quiet laughter for a few seconds, the tension dissolving like sugar in tea. Finally, Mingyu stretched his arms overhead with a loud yawn, then pulled on his hoodie.
“I should go before I throw myself at you dramatically and ruin the slow burn.”
Joshua walked him to the door.
They stood there for a second, just... looking at each other.
“I’ll text you when I reach,” Mingyu said, grinning.
Joshua nodded. “Okay. And Mingyu?”
“Yeah?”
Joshua raised his pinky. “Don’t forget this.”
Mingyu beamed and linked theirs together again, the string glowing faintly between them.
“I couldn’t if I tried.”
They were still by the door when Joshua, ever the polite gentleman, pulled out his phone. “Here,” he said, opening a new contact. “What’s your number?”
Mingyu beamed, rattled off his digits faster than humanly possible, and then immediately pointed. “Wait—wait, what are you saving me as?!”
Joshua blinked. “Your name?”
“That’s so boring! No emojis? No pet names? I just emotionally undressed my entire soulmate dream list for you and you're giving me ‘Mingyu’ like we’re coworkers at a finance firm?!”
Joshua snorted. “Fine. What do you want to be saved as, then?”
Mingyu grinned. “Something cute! Something you’d never name anyone else.”
Joshua rolled his eyes fondly, then paused—and typed in:
Mingoo♡
He showed it to him.
Mingyu gasped like he’d been shot in the heart. “You added a heart?”
Joshua smirked. “Well, you did just tell me I’m your endgame.”
“I'm framing this contact name. I’m printing it out. I'm getting it tattooed on my soul.”
Joshua laughed. “Go home, Mingoo.”
So Mingyu did.
Sort of.
[12:14 AM – from: Mingoo♡]
i forgor to put my left shoe on properly 😭😭
do u think that means bad luck for our marriage
Joshua choked on his water.
[12:14 AM – from: Mingoo♡]
like wat if our future cat now has three legs bc of the sho thing
[12:15 AM – from: Mingoo♡]
i miss ur sofa it was cozy and ur face too 😔
Joshua stared at the screen, smiling helplessly.
He hadn’t even sat back down yet.
[12:15 AM – from: Mingoo♡]
wait can i name our first child pancake
Joshua:
[12:16 AM – to: Mingoo♡]Why are you like this.
[12:16 AM – from: Mingoo♡]
bc the world needs love joshy
also bc if i dont talk to u ill die. like explode.
[12:17 AM – from: Mingoo♡]
😵 ← this is me without u
✨😌✨ ← this is me thinking of our wedding outfits
Joshua leaned his head back on the couch, eyes closed, cheeks warm. It had been a long day. A strange day.
But for the first time in forever, his heart didn’t feel heavy.
It felt… full.
He opened his eyes, typed back slowly.
[12:18 AM – to: Mingoo♡]
Please don’t name our kid Pancake.
[12:18 AM – from: Mingoo♡]
so u agree to the kid part ? 😳💍
Joshua smiled again. A tiny, private smile.
[12:18 AM – to: Mingoo♡]
Goodnight, Mingoo.
[12:18 AM – from: Mingoo♡]
Gnite hubby 😚💗
dream of me or else 😤
also ur hot. okay bye.
Joshua turned off his phone and held it to his chest.
He wasn’t sure how this chaotic, typo-filled human had entered his life so fast—or why the red string had waited years to glow.
But right now?
It felt worth the wait.
---
The next morning, Joshua walked into the studio wearing his usual oversized hoodie, mask pulled down, cap low. Nothing visibly different.
Except he was smiling.
Worse—softly smiling. The kind that comes with texting someone way too much past midnight.
“Okay. Who is it?” Seungkwan deadpanned the moment Joshua stepped inside.
“What?” Joshua blinked, setting his coffee down.
“You’ve got this weird aura, hyung,” Seungkwan said, squinting. “Like someone who just discovered love and went through all five stages of denial in one night.”
“He’s glowing,” Jihoon muttered from his seat in the booth. “Like he moisturized with joy.”
Joshua sighed, rolling his eyes—but his smile only grew.
Dokyeom leaned forward. “You found your soulmate, didn’t you?”
Joshua froze mid-sip.
Seungkwan shrieked. “I KNEW IT.”
“Hyung!” Dokyeom gasped. “What?! Since when?! Who is it?!”
Joshua laughed, cheeks flushed as he set his cup down. “Technically… since last night.”
“WHAAAT?!”
“Okay, but listen,” Joshua said, voice calm like he hadn’t just dropped a soulmate bomb on his group, “I didn’t expect it. I wasn’t even looking.”
“Who is it?!” Jihoon asked, arms crossed but clearly intrigued.
Joshua hesitated. “He’s a university student.”
“Oh my god. He’s a baby,” Seungkwan whispered.
“He’s actually not—he’s just… younger. And chaotic. And affectionate. And dramatic. And talks too much.”
“Wow. Sounds like your perfect opposite,” Jihoon muttered.
Joshua chuckled, but his smile softened again as he remembered Mingyu curled up on his couch, beaming, talking about matching rings and pancake-shaped kids.
Just then, his phone buzzed.
He didn’t even have to check to know who it was.
But he did.
[from: Mingoo♡]
goodmorning to my fav idol boy ☀️
also i brushed my teeth n thought of u is that weird
Joshua nearly dropped his phone.
[from: Mingoo♡]
ALSO i had a dream u were a mermaid n i was a lifeguard but then u drowned anyway
do u think that means something
Joshua bit back a smile.
“Who’s texting you?” Dokyeom asked, leaning in.
“No one,” Joshua said way too quickly, clutching his phone like it was sacred.
“Is he hot?” Seungkwan smirked.
Joshua gave him a flat look. “What kind of question—”
“You saved him with a heart emoji, didn’t you?” Jihoon said, eyebrow raised.
Joshua didn’t respond.
They all screamed.
“GUYS. Focus. We’re here to record—”
His phone buzzed again.
[from: Mingoo♡]
also if u need motivation today just imagine me cheering for u shirtless ok bye 🥺✊
Joshua’s ears turned red.
“…Okay, we’re writing a song about him,” Seungkwan declared.
Joshua buried his face in his hands.
[from: Mingoo♡]
ps. do u want a sandwich?? im near ur company. dont ask why
Joshua blinked.
“Hyung,” Jihoon said slowly. “Is he outside the building right now—”
Joshua stood up. “I’ll be right back.”
And just like that, he was gone—hood pulled up, cheeks pink, heart racing as he went to find the literal sunshine waiting for him with a sandwich in hand and probably five more soulmate fantasies to share.
Joshua rushed out of the studio, hoodie pulled low and mask back up, scanning the small crowd outside the company building.
It didn’t take long to spot him.
Kim Mingyu—human golden retriever, soulmate, and certified menace to Joshua’s career—was standing just across the street in the shade of a tree… waving both arms like he was directing a plane to land.
“JOSHUA-HYUNNNGG!!!” he whisper-yelled, hopping in place.
Joshua winced. “Mingyu, stop—”
Mingyu grinned, skipping over and thrusting a paper bag in his direction. “I made you a sandwich!”
Joshua blinked. “You—what?”
“Two, actually! One with egg, one with cheese, ‘cause I didn’t know your fav, so I made both and you can eat whichever you feel emotionally connected to—”
Joshua grabbed his wrist and pulled him into the side alley between buildings. “Mingyu,” he hissed. “You can’t just show up like this!”
Mingyu blinked, still smiling. “But I missed you.”
“You literally saw me seven hours ago!”
“Yeah, and I’ve been hungry for your face ever since—”
Joshua pinched the bridge of his nose. “You don’t get it. You can’t be near the company like this. If someone sees you—photos, rumors—this is dangerous.”
Mingyu’s smile faltered just a little.
“…I just wanted to see you before your recording,” he said, a little softer now. “You looked kind of tired last night, so I… thought maybe a sandwich might help.”
Joshua looked at him—really looked.
Mingyu was wearing a hoodie two sizes too big, hair messy, one shoelace untied. He was holding out the paper bag like it was some priceless treasure.
“I labeled them,” Mingyu added quickly, lifting the bag.
On the front, written in big pink marker:
“FOR MY ❤️ (don’t tell the other sandwiches)”
Joshua exhaled slowly.
God, how was he supposed to stay mad?
“…You can’t keep doing this, Mingyu,” he muttered, though his voice had lost all edge now.
Mingyu nodded solemnly. “Got it. No more sandwich missions without your permission.”
Joshua rolled his eyes, but he couldn’t stop the smile tugging at his lips.
He took the bag.
“Thanks,” he said quietly.
Mingyu lit up again like the sun came out. “You’re welcome!! Also—eat the egg one first, it has a smiley face ketchup squiggle!”
Joshua gave him a look. “You drew on the sandwich?”
“Obviously. I wanted it to feel emotionally supported.”
Joshua sighed, tucking the bag under his arm. “Go home, Mingoo.”
“I’m going. Slowly. With dignity.”
“…You’re skipping.”
“I’m joyfully retreating!”
Joshua turned around before he could laugh out loud. His fingers lingered on the paper bag.
Even if this whole thing was chaos, even if it was risky—
There was something about Mingyu that made him feel safe, even when the world didn’t.
Joshua re-entered the studio like someone trying to smuggle a national treasure through airport security.
Bag pressed discreetly under his arm. Eyes straight ahead. Face expressionless.
He almost made it.
Almost.
Until—
“What’s that?” Seungkwan asked immediately, pointing like a laser beam.
Joshua paused mid-step. “Nothing.”
Dokyeom leaned over. “Hyung… is that a lunch bag?”
Jihoon narrowed his eyes from the booth. “It says ‘FOR MY ❤️’ on the front.”
Joshua sighed deeply. He held it up reluctantly.
Seungkwan snatched it with the reflexes of a cat. “FOR MY HEART?! OH MY GOD IT’S FROM HIM.”
Dokyeom gasped. “The soulmate!! Is it poisoned with love?? Is that ketchup or blood—?”
Joshua reached for it, but Seungkwan flipped it over dramatically.
Inside were two neatly wrapped sandwiches. And a small, folded note.
Dokyeom snatched the note before Joshua could stop him.
“HEY—!”
Too late.
Dokyeom unfolded it, read out loud:
“Dear Shua-shua 💌,
I made these sandwiches with my own two hands and soul.
If you don’t like them, I’ll cry. Probably in a park.
Love, your future husband probably maybe but also definitely,
Kim Mingoo♡
P.S. The egg one is emotionally squishy. Like me.”
There was silence.
Then the room erupted.
“FUTURE HUSBAND PROBABLY MAYBE—” Seungkwan was on the floor.
Jihoon had removed his headset just to laugh. “Is he a poet? Is this Shakespeare?”
Dokyeom sniffled. “I want someone to call me emotionally squishy…”
Joshua stood there, arms crossed, face flushed like a strawberry.
“Are you done?” he muttered.
“Nope,” Seungkwan wheezed, lifting his phone. “I’m documenting this. Hyung. Look at you. Blushing. Over a sandwich.”
“I am not—!”
“EMOTIONALLY SQUISHY,” Dokyeom shouted, now pretending to sob dramatically into a cushion.
Joshua finally managed to snatch the note back and sit down, carefully tucking it into his pocket. He took out the egg sandwich and unwrapped it slowly.
It had a smiley face drawn in ketchup.
Seungkwan peeked over his shoulder. “Are you gonna eat it or marry it?”
Joshua rolled his eyes. But…
He smiled.
“I’m gonna eat it,” he said quietly. “And maybe also… marry the chef.”
And just like that, his phone buzzed.
[from: Mingoo♡]
did u eat it?? did ur mouth cry from joy? do u feel spiritually fed?
Joshua chuckled.
[to: Mingoo♡]
Emotionally squishy. Just like you said.
---
Joshua had barely finished cleaning up after dinner when his phone buzzed.
[Incoming FaceTime: Mingoo♡]
He stared at it, amused. They hadn’t even officially said "Let’s FaceTime"—but of course, Mingyu had just launched himself in without a warning.
He answered.
Mingyu’s face filled the screen upside down. “AM I TOO CLOSE?”
Joshua blinked. “Why are you hanging off your bed backwards?”
“Because I wanted to look mysterious. And relatable.”
Joshua chuckled. “You look like you’re about to fall into a void.”
Mingyu rolled over—now right side up, hair a fluffy mess, cheeks pink from excitement. “Hi, hyung.”
Joshua’s lips twitched up. “Hi, Mingoo.”
Mingyu beamed, kicking his feet like a child. “I missed you today even though we talked, like, seventy times.”
Joshua smirked. “You texted me twenty-one times in one hour.”
“That’s a slow day.”
“I was in the studio, Mingyu.”
“Exactly! I had to emotionally support you from afar.”
Joshua was about to reply when Mingyu suddenly gasped, leaped up, and flipped the camera around. “WAIT. TOUR TIME.”
“Mingyu—”
“No, you need to see this.” The screen jolted violently as Mingyu ran across his room, breathless.
And then.
The camera landed on his wall.
Covered in sticky notes.
Dozens of them.
Joshua blinked. “What… is that.”
“My soulmate wall!! I made it years ago when I first learned about red strings and decided I’d be the most prepared soulmate ever.”
He zoomed in on one.
“Candlelight dinner. Pasta. With forehead kisses.”
Another:
“Hold hands in the rain like in Kdramas??”
Another:
“Get matching toothbrushes (purple?? or peach??)”
And then, Joshua read aloud: “Practice proposal speech in mirror (at least 3 versions in case of nerves)”
Mingyu screamed. “DON’T READ THAT ONE I WAS FOURTEEN.”
Joshua was laughing now, hand covering his mouth. “You were ready to propose before puberty.”
“I BELIEVE IN PREPARED LOVE.”
Joshua wiped a tear of laughter from his eye. “You are… unreal.”
“I’m just saying, if the moment ever comes, I do have a Google doc titled ‘Proposal Plan A, B, and C.’”
Joshua leaned into the screen, eyes crinkling. “You know we’ve known each other for like, one day, right?”
Mingyu tilted his head. “One magical, soulmate-filled, destiny-wrapped day.”
Joshua snorted.
Mingyu flopped back onto his bed, holding the phone over his face. “Do you think I’m too much?”
Joshua blinked. “No,” he said immediately. “You’re a lot. But not too much.”
Mingyu looked up, hopeful.
Joshua smiled softly. “I think you’re exactly what I didn’t know I needed.”
Mingyu flushed. “Oh my god. That was so boyfriend-coded. Say it again.”
“No.”
“Just one more time, I’ll record it—”
“Goodnight, Mingoo.”
“Say you love me in French first—”
Joshua ended the call.
And then—
[from: Mingoo♡]
je t’aime 😚 (google said that’s right)
Joshua stared at the screen, shaking his head fondly.
He opened a new note in his phone and typed:
“Make a sticky note wall for Mingyu.”
---
It was 3:42 p.m.
Joshua was mid-photo shoot. Lights flashing. Director yelling cues. Fans whirring in the background.
His phone buzzed in his pocket.
He ignored it.
Then it buzzed again.
And again.
And again.
He finally pulled it out during a break, expecting a staff message.
[Incoming VideoCall: Mingoo♡]
He sighed—half fond, half exasperated—and stepped into the hallway.
He answered with a whisper. “Mingyu. I’m on set.”
“JOSHUAAAAAA,” came the whiniest voice alive on the other end. “I’m DYING.”
Joshua blinked. “What? Why?”
“Because I haven’t heard your voice in six hours and my pillow is no longer emotionally supportive and I finished all the strawberry milk and the cashier lady said couples are annoying—was she talking about us?”
Joshua blinked again, face softening. “Mingyu…”
“I’m not being dramatic,” Mingyu huffed. “I’m just passionately suffering.”
Joshua leaned against the wall, glancing back at the staff calling for a short reset. “Mingyu, I’m literally in the middle of a shoot.”
“I know, I know! I just—” Mingyu groaned. “I wanted to hear you say ‘Mingoo’ again. Like, the soft way. You know what I mean.”
Joshua chuckled, rubbing his forehead. “Mingoo.”
A pause.
Then: “🥺…”
Joshua smiled to himself.
“I miss you,” Mingyu muttered. “But I won’t come over if you’re tired. Or busy. Or being glammed up and shiny.”
There was something unexpectedly sweet in that sentence—like Mingyu was trying so hard not to overstep.
Joshua’s voice softened. “You can come over later.”
Silence.
“Wait really?!”
“I’ll be home by 7. Don’t bring sandwiches this time, just your annoying face.”
“OH MY GOD I’M BRINGING COOKIES.”
“Mingyu—”
“They’re from the heart, hyung.”
Joshua shook his head, smiling helplessly. “Fine. Cookies from the heart. But come through the back gate. No being seen.”
“I’ll wear a bush.”
“What.”
“LIKE A DISGUISE—OKAY I’LL FIGURE IT OUT.”
“Mingyu—”
“BYE I’M GONNA GO SHOWER IN EXCITEMENT—”
He hung up.
Joshua stared at his screen.
Joshua had just slipped his phone into his pocket when the director turned to him, arms crossed and brow raised.
“You smiling for the camera or for someone else, Hong?”
Joshua blinked, trying to wipe the grin off his face like it hadn’t been glued there since Mingyu's whiny FaceTime.
“Just… in the zone,” he offered weakly.
The director narrowed his eyes. “You better get out of the love zone and back in the idol zone. We’re on a tight schedule.”
A couple stylists behind him chuckled quietly. Joshua gave a polite laugh, trying to play it cool.
But the director wasn’t done.
“Let me make this crystal clear,” he said, voice lowering. “You know what happened last time. That dating rumor nearly ruined the comeback. You want that again?”
Joshua’s smile faltered.
“No, sir.”
The director nodded. “Good. No distractions. No more glow. No more hearts in your damn eyes. You’re an idol. That means you belong to the fans.”
Joshua nodded again.
What else could he do?
He wasn’t even dating Mingyu—just… connected. Pulled by fate. Glowing strings and all.
But still. In this world, even a smile too soft was dangerous.
He turned back toward the set, the warm weight of Mingyu’s energy still lingering in his chest—but locked tightly behind his ribs now.
---
The shoot was over.
Joshua sat alone in the waiting room, hair still styled, glitter still clinging to his cheekbones, but the light in his eyes had dimmed.
He was tired. Not just physically, but in the bone-deep, aching kind of way that comes from feeling something too big and being told to shrink it.
He glanced down at his phone.
[Mingoo♡]: I put 5 marshmallows in my mouth and almost choked. Miss u <3
A small smile tugged at his lips.
He typed back,Don’t die before dinner.
But didn’t hit send.
Suddenly—
The door burst open.
“Mingy—” Joshua stood up instinctively, heart skipping.
But it wasn’t Mingyu.
It was Kim Taehyung.
Wearing sunglasses indoors. A beret. And chewing gum like he was walking down a runway.
“Tae?” Joshua blinked. “What the hell are you—”
“I sensed emotional constipation from three buildings away,” Taehyung said, tossing his coat onto the couch. “So I came to save your tragically repressed ass.”
Joshua slumped back down. “I thought you were in Japan.”
“Flight got canceled. Destiny said it was time for therapy. I brought snacks.”
He pulled out a bag of shrimp chips and tossed them dramatically onto the table.
Joshua groaned. “Tae…”
“Talk.”
Joshua stared at the floor. “I met my soulmate.”
Taehyung froze mid-chip. “YOU WHAT—”
“I met him. His string glows. He’s—he’s so much. He talks a lot. He made me sandwiches. And he has this wall of sticky notes and dreams and I—”
Joshua sighed, hands covering his face. “I want to see him every day.”
Taehyung’s grin grew devilish. “Then do it.”
“I can’t. The company already warned me once. They’ll kill me this time. I’m an idol—”
Taehyung flopped onto the couch next to him, ripping off his sunglasses. “Bro. Fuck the company.”
Joshua looked at him, scandalized. “Excuse me—?”
“Love is love. Soulmates are rare. And that glow? That doesn’t come around often.” Taehyung threw a chip in the air and caught it with his mouth. “Do you think Yoongi and I got approval letters?”
Joshua blinked.
“We fought, cried, eloped in our hearts, made a playlist. He calls me his problem and I call him my ‘yes, chef.’” Taehyung grinned. “We’re a romcom with tax benefits.”
Joshua stared. “You’re insane.”
“Insanely in love.”
“Tae.”
“Josh. You deserve this. And if the company can’t handle you being in love with someone who gives you sticky notes and sandwiches, then they’re not worthy of your heart.”
Joshua exhaled shakily. “…He told me he wants to marry his soulmate.”
Taehyung screamed into a pillow.
“HE IS A GOLDEN RETRIEVER IN LOVE,” he cried. “Why are you still here and not kissing him senseless?”
“I—I told him to come over.”
“Good. YES. FINALLY.”
“But I’m scared, Tae,” Joshua whispered. “What if I ruin him?”
Taehyung looked him dead in the eyes. “No. You won’t. You’ll build him. The same way he’s slowly building you back from all this damn control.”
Silence.
Then Taehyung clapped his hands and stood up. “Now go. Shower. Be hot. Light a candle. Look emotionally mysterious.”
“What?”
“TRUST ME. YOONGI SAYS I LOOK MOST DATEABLE WHEN I LOOK MILDLY DEPRESSED.”
“I can’t believe you’re giving me dating advice.”
“Believe it. I’m a menace in love. And so will you be.”
---
Joshua lit the candle.
Then blew it out.
Then lit it again.
Then cursed under his breath because why did he even light a candle what was this, a proposal??
He was standing in the middle of his apartment, wearing a black hoodie and soft grey sweatpants—what Taehyung had dramatically called his “emo-chic boyfriend uniform.”
His hair was still damp from the shower. He looked calm.
He felt insane.
And then—
ding dong.
He froze.
His pinky tugged softly, as if whispering: He’s here.
Joshua opened the door.
And there Mingyu stood.
Wearing Joshua’s hoodie—from last time—like it belonged to him now. Hair a mess, cheeks puffed with cold air, holding a plastic tupperware box that was wrapped in what looked like... three layers of cling wrap and... duct tape?
Joshua blinked. “Did you… steal my hoodie?”
Mingyu held up the container. “I brought cookies!!!”
“That doesn’t answer my question.”
“It does emotionally.”
Joshua laughed, stepping aside. “Come in before the neighbors fall in love with you.”
Mingyu beamed and stomped in, slipping his sneakers off and immediately tripping on the welcome mat. “I’M OKAY.”
Joshua watched fondly as he wobbled straight to the kitchen, already acting like he lived there.
Mingyu turned, holding the tupperware like a sacred relic. “Okay so these are heart-shaped. Or they were. I may have sat on them during the subway ride.”
He opened the lid.
Joshua blinked. “They look like… stars.”
“They taste like regret and sugar. Eat one.”
Joshua took one, bit into it, and blinked again. “This is actually… good.”
Mingyu beamed. “I googled ‘how to make a man fall in love with you’ and it said ‘feed him things shaped like hearts.’”
Joshua sat on the couch, still smiling. “That’s terrifying.”
“I know, right?? I’m so glad it worked.” Mingyu flopped down beside him, knees pulled up, string between them glowing faintly in the dim room.
Joshua leaned his head back. “You wore my hoodie.”
“I emotionally bonded with it.”
Joshua looked at him. “You’re really… just here, huh?”
Mingyu blinked. “Where else would I be?”
Joshua hesitated.
And then asked softly, “Aren’t you scared?”
Mingyu tilted his head. “Of what?”
“Of all this. Of me. Of what this might mean for your life if this gets out.”
Mingyu stared at him, then reached forward, took Joshua’s hand—and gently, so gently—linked their pinkies together.
The string between them pulsed brighter.
“I’m scared of cucumbers,” he said seriously. “Not you.”
Joshua barked a laugh. “Mingyu.”
Mingyu smiled. “This isn’t scary, hyung. This feels like the one thing that finally makes sense.”
Joshua felt his throat tighten.
Mingyu scooted closer, cookie now forgotten. “Also. Your kitchen is very clean. I wanna cook in it someday. While you’re sleepy and grumpy.”
Joshua nodded slowly. “Deal. As long as you don’t burn my house down.”
Mingyu grinned.
And then—just like that—he leaned his head onto Joshua’s shoulder. “Hyung?”
“Yeah?”
“I like you so much it’s starting to make me stupid.”
Joshua’s heart skipped.
“…You were already stupid.”
Mingyu giggled. “Exactly.”
---
It started with a cookie crumb on Joshua’s hoodie.
That Mingyu tried to pick off.
Which turned into Mingyu somehow curling into Joshua’s side like a human-sized house cat, arms loosely around his waist, cheek pressed against his shoulder.
Joshua had no idea when they got so comfortable. Or when he started running his fingers absentmindedly through Mingyu’s hair. But there they were.
Lights dim.
String glowing.
Two souls in sync.
“So,” Mingyu said softly, voice muffled into the fabric of Joshua’s hoodie, “if we had a dog… what would we name it?”
Joshua blinked. “A dog?”
“Yeah. You know. Hypothetically. Future. Cozy home. Blanket forts. Morning walks. Dog.”
Joshua chuckled. “You already planned the entire domestic life and I don’t even know your middle name.”
“It’s Kim Romantic Dreamer Mingyu.”
“Very official.”
“Thank you.”
Joshua thought for a moment. “Okay. Dog name.”
Mingyu looked up. “It can’t be something basic like Max. It has to be our dog.”
Joshua smiled. “How about... Mochi?”
Mingyu gasped. “OH MY GOD. Or—no wait—SPONGEBOB.”
Joshua stared. “…No.”
“BUT IMAGINE CALLING IT ACROSS THE PARK.”
Joshua laughed. “You’re never naming our dog.”
Mingyu pouted, still hugging him. “Fine. What about Soba?”
“…You just want food names.”
“Because I love food. And I love you. It’s the same.”
Joshua paused.
“You what?”
“…I love food,” Mingyu repeated loudly.
Joshua raised a brow.
Mingyu coughed. “AND I love you.”
Joshua’s heart stuttered.
But Mingyu quickly backtracked, “Platonically. Romantically. Spiritually. Emotionally. Astronomically. All the -ly’s.”
“...You’re ridiculous.”
“I’m your ridiculous.”
Joshua shook his head, trying not to laugh. “What else do you wanna do with your soulmate, then?”
Mingyu lifted a finger. “Picnics.”
“Cute.”
“Matching socks.”
“Cringe.”
“Sleep on the phone together.”
“…Maybe.”
“Go to a haunted house but cling to each other the whole time.”
“Okay, that one’s actually romantic.”
Mingyu beamed. “See?? We’re so compatible.”
Joshua looked down at him, that same dumb fondness in his chest growing stronger every second. “You really thought about this stuff a lot, huh?”
Mingyu nodded. “For years. Since I was a kid. I used to lie awake thinking—what if my soulmate liked cheese as much as I did? Or what if he didn’t like scary movies and we’d have to compromise by watching zombie romcoms. Or—what if he was an idol?”
Joshua flinched at that.
Mingyu looked up quickly. “Not in a weird way!! I mean—I didn’t know you were the idol. But I did think… if he was famous, I’d still love him the same.”
Joshua’s heart ached.
And healed.
All at once.
“You’re…” he whispered, brushing some hair from Mingyu’s forehead, “unreal.”
Mingyu smiled sleepily. “You’re real enough for both of us.”
They sat in silence for a while. Only the soft hum of the heater and the gentle glow of the string between them.
Then Joshua whispered, “Can we actually name the dog Mochi, though?”
Mingyu nodded. “Only if we also get a turtle named Mr. Jiggly.”
“…Okay
The living room had gone completely quiet.
Joshua was warm. Warm in a way he hadn't felt in years. Not the kind of warmth from a blanket or tea or candles—but the kind that bloomed in your chest when someone made you feel safe.
Mingyu was still tucked into his side, eyelids fluttering shut every few seconds. He’d stopped talking ten minutes ago mid-sentence—something about how they should design their future bedroom with “glow-in-the-dark stars and a ceiling mirror but only if it wasn’t weird.”
His voice had trailed off and his breathing evened out.
Joshua smiled down at him.
This—this was dangerous.
This feeling. This peace. This want.
But then—
Mingyu jerked suddenly.
He blinked, looked around blearily, and sat up. “Oh crap—what time is it??”
Joshua frowned. “It’s 1:30.”
“AM?!”
“Yes.”
“Oh no—no, no—I didn’t mean to—” Mingyu shot up, already untangling himself, hoodie sleeves flopping, hair sticking in all directions. “I have class tomorrow. And I need to feed the neighbor’s cat. And also I think I left my houseplants listening to rock music and they get cranky—”
Joshua watched silently, a little stunned by the sudden loss of warmth at his side.
Mingyu froze by the door. “Sorry—I just—I should go.”
“...Okay,” Joshua said softly.
Mingyu turned.
And saw the look on Joshua’s face.
It was soft.
Tired.
And… a little sad.
Mingyu’s heart cracked.
“I don’t want to,” he admitted in a whisper. “I’d stay. I’d stay forever if I could.”
Joshua nodded slowly. “I know.”
Their pinkies brushed briefly at their sides, the string pulsing like it didn’t want them to part either.
“But we can’t, right?” Mingyu said, voice smaller now. “Not yet.”
Joshua shook his head. “Not yet.”
The silence between them wasn’t awkward. It was heavy. Yearning. Two people forced to pause something they didn’t want to stop.
Mingyu stepped forward again, just once, and leaned his forehead against Joshua’s.
“I’ll come back.”
Joshua closed his eyes. “Promise?”
Mingyu exhaled. “On Mochi the dog and Mr. Jiggly the turtle.”
That got a breathy laugh.
And then, reluctantly, painfully—Mingyu turned and left.
The door closed with a soft click.
And Joshua stood alone.
But the string still glowed.
---